Page 71 of Tipping Point
“Cam, has it ever occurred to you that maybe it was serious to them?”
“No.”
We laugh together. It’s funny because it’s true in an awkward way. I wave her off. “Hit the hay!”
“All right, all right!”
“And phone me when you’re sober!”
But it’s too late, the call is already dropped.
Before I can set my phone down it pings. I have an email.
It’s from Finn’s agent. He’s asking if we can reschedule the filming of Mr Brennan’s home.
Shit.
Casey already booked our flights to Singapore for Tuesday, the day after we film his house.
I give him a professional reply stating that we would leave on Tuesday and that Mr Brennan could either meet his contractual obligation with WebFlix Max or he could choose to break contract.
It’s been my standard reply to the many agents, personal assistants, and team coordinators I have had to deal with this year. Very few of the drivers haven’t tried to reschedule us.
IRISH (20:03) How about Saturday?
For a moment I think he’s asking me out, but then his agent’s reply comes through, offering a tour of Mr Brennans’ home this Saturday evening after qualifying.
They are obviously communicating.
It will be rushed because there will be very little time to film what with a big race the following day.
Perfect. Cuts down on the time I have to be in his presence.
I want to say no to be difficult, but I absolutely dread going to his house and being in his personal space. The less time I spend there, the better.
This is a blessing in disguise.
I agree and drop a message on our group chat.
As expected, I get many complaints. We’ll be spending the day at the track filming the qualifying and then immediately after we’ll be filming Finn at his house just a way out of town.
And the next day we’ll be filming the race.
This after an entire week of filming other drivers at their homes. The crew is dead tired.
I promise them two full days off in Singapore and I let them negotiate me up to three. Everyone agrees.
And they get to spend Monday, a filming-free day, in Faenza, Italy, before we catch our flight.
What’s not to love, right?
* * *
CAMILLE
His home is situated on a small vineyard in the Romagna hills just outside Faenza. It is meticulously kept. When we make our way up a long gravel drive, I can feel the apprehension I have been feeling all day turn into full-on anxiety.
It’s a modest house. A big square of warm stucco with natural stone that brings it into harmony with the vineyard setting. It’s lit from below. Warm light cast the walls in a soft glow. There are large windows and glass walls and when he opens the front door, he’s freshly showered and dressed in tracksuit pants and sneakers, a white shirt crisp against his tanned skin.